Wicked Wednesday – Secret Agent Reunion

Click here for more info on SECRET AGENT REUNIONWhen I wrote MORE THAN A MISSION over a year ago, I was more than eager to write the sequel – Dani’s story. Luckily I was able to do so and that book, SECRET AGENT REUNION, came out just this past August.

I loved Dani and Mitch and being able to do an action-packed romantic suspense. I also loved being able to set it in romantic places like Paris, Rome and London.

Today’s Wicked Wednesday, therefore, is a short excerpt from that book, which is still available at both Amazon and B&N. In this scene, Mitch and Dani are on the run after their cover is blown in Rome. They are still in search of the mole that has infiltrated S.I.S. (the British equivalent of the CIA) and their elite organization, the Lazlo Group.

The tension is building as they are on the run for their lives, but also fighting their growing attraction to one another.

Hope you like it!


“Disguise time?”

She grimaced at the thought of the smelly hair dyes and what they were doing to her hair, but the thought of a nice long bath before they got back to work was all the incentive she needed. Grabbing hold of his hand, she said, “Come on. I’ll do you first.”

“You sweet talker, you,” Mitch teased, but followed her into the tight quarters of the bathroom. He put down the toilet seat cover and plopped onto it, leaned his head back so that it rested on the edge of the porcelain sink. “Do me,” he said with a wink.

Do him! Unfortunately, the earlier dinner and his teasing resuscitated one too many images of just that and as she had told herself from the first, being like Lazarus didn’t mean they were the same anymore. That their feelings for one another were the same.

As she wet his hair, running her fingers through those familiar strands, she repeated that warning over and over. Slipping on the gloves that had come with the hair dye, she worked it into the strands, massaging it in. Wrinkling her nose at its odor as she counted down the minutes until it would have to come out.

When it was close to the time, she tested a small piece of a strand, pleased to see that the color had taken. Once again she washed his hair, removing all the dye, but then she said, “Hold on a sec while I shampoo it.”

She worked in the shampoo, the almond scent fragrant. The thick lather heavy and luxurious on her fingers and in his hair. She massaged his scalp and he sighed with pleasure.

“Feels good,” he murmured, his big body relaxed as she worked on him.

“Hmm,” she said, losing herself in the simple task and the intimacy of the moment. When she was done, she almost regretted being finished since it had been so restful.

She handed him a towel and he rubbed it through the strands of his hair as he rose and faced her.

The shock of the color faded quickly as she realized how the black accented the slate grey of his eyes. She understood now why Elvis had gone dark. The contrast of his hair with the light eyes made him even more appealing.

“You okay?” he asked and she brushed past him, sat on the toilet bowl so that Mitch could color her hair.

“My turn,” she replied, not wanting to admit that he still moved her physically.

Closing her eyes against the sight of him, she braced her head on the edge of the sink, but battled for balance to keep
her position from aggravating her side. Mitch must have sensed the tension in her body.

“Side bothering you?”

“A little,” she admitted and the cool of the hair dye made her jump.

“Relax,” he urged, his breath warm against the shell of her ear, surprising her with his proximity.

Relax, as if she could between the pain in her side, the press of his hip against her shoulder as he labored and his fingers working the dye into the short strands of her hair.

By the time Mitch rinsed the color out, beads of sweat had popped out on her upper lip and the pain in her side had grown exponentially. “I need to get up,” she said, not even waiting for him to hand her a towel.

Water dripped down her neck before she snagged a towel from the rack and she faced Mitch.

“Why don’t we run a bath? The heat will help your side and we could shampoo your hair.”

We. That simple “we” and the imagining of her and him and the bath brought a rush of heat into her body. Reason said to tell him “No”, but somehow her brain shut down and she mumbled, “Okay.”

Mitch schooled his surprise at her acquiescence, but wasn’t about to question it. He immediately went to the tub and got a bath going. For extra protection, he spilled in the entire bottle of bath gel the hotel provided. Bubbles would provide adequate cover. Cover being essential to avoid making another mistake tonight. Bad enough that some part of his brain had shut down and offered up the shampoo and bath in the first place.

Luckily, despite the age of the hotel, the water pressure was exceptional and the bath filled quickly. The gel perfumed the air with something floral and brought mounds of bubbles.

Bubbles were good, he thought again and only caught a glimpse of a naked Dani slipping beneath those bubbles.

Only a glimpse, but enough of a peek of gorgeous smooth ass to make him itch to touch more than the now light auburn shag of her hair. Fisting his hands, he kneeled beside the tub.

Dani had leaned back against the edge, her body safely ensconced beneath the bubbles. Eyes closed. As she sensed his presence, she peered at him through one half-opened eye. “Can I soak for a bit? This feels heavenly.”

Soak. Yes, a soak would help loosen her muscles. Reduce any discomfort in her side. Reduce the bubbles, his brain reminded him, but he agreed to her request and bolted from the bathroom.

Outside, he walked to the serving cart where his wine glass sat, empty. But the bottle of Sangrantina still held a little and he poured it out. Barely a mouthful, but it would have to do to brace himself for his return to the bathroom.

He paced in the room, counting down the minutes. Telling himself that it would be better for both of them if he didn’t return. He should just sit back down at the table with the laptops and work on getting more information on their suspects. Fists clenched, he went to the table, determined to sit, but then temptation won out.

Stalking to the door, he knocked and heard her muffled, “Come in.”

As he entered, he realized that she had already tried to shampoo her hair, but was having problems — the pulled muscle hampered her ability to fully raise her arm above her head. She was awkwardly trying to work up a lather with one hand. Luckily, bubble coverage still provided some protection.

“Let me,” he said, kneeling by the edge of the tub and replacing her hand with his. He worked up a lather and then massaged into her hair, probing his fingers against her scalp until she closed her eyes and said, “Feels good.”

He lingered in the lather, wanting her to relax and enjoy. Maybe subconsciously recognizing that with each minute that passed, the protection of the bubbles ebbed. By the time he was scooping his hands and using the water to rinse out the shampoo, he had a clear view of her amazing body and his reacted accordingly.

When Dani slicked back her hair with her hand and met his gaze, she knew just what had his attention.

A throb began between her legs as his gaze settled on her breasts and in response, her nipples tightened in anticipation of his touch. She had to admit it then, she wanted his touch much as she had the other night. No matter how she wanted to deny that he still held any sway over her emotions, there was no denying he still held control over her body.

But then, he wasn’t unaffected. She didn’t need to peer over the edge of the tub to know he was aroused. It was there in the way the color of his eyes had darkened and his mouth had dropped open a little. It was in the shaky breath he took and the tremble in his hands as he laid them on the edge of the tub.

“Dani, love. We both know — ”

“This would be another big mistake. The other night. Now. It’ll bring nothing but problems, right?” she said, wanting him to agree and back away.

Instead, he eased his hand into the water and cupped her breast. Ran his thumb over her distended nipple. “Right. A problem, but we’re problem solvers, aren’t we?”

She sucked in a breath and bit her lower lip as he took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and tenderly rotated it. Fighting her desire, she said, “Other people’s problems. Somehow we can’t solve our own.”

“Maybe because we’re giving it too much thought. Maybe we should just see where this all takes us,” he said, moving his hand away from her breast and up to cup the side of her face. He leaned closer, until his lips were barely an inch from hers.

“What if it doesn’t take us anywhere?” She laid her hand on the side of his face and then upward, into the still damp strands of his now way short hair.

“How can we know if we don’t start the journey?”

Copyright 2007 Caridad Pineiro Scordato www.caridad.com